


The Sweetest Sounds

by miitgaanar



Series: A Court of Songs and Swells [1]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, First book only, canon-divergent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 05:16:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17481911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miitgaanar/pseuds/miitgaanar
Summary: Sirens are a rarity in the land of Prythian.  Even the oldest of their kind have only the vaguest memories of their presence on their shores, and their youngest plead with their parents for stories of the mythical songstresses of the sea.  So when one is found in their lands—a half-human, half-siren hybrid, nonetheless—the Courts are in an uproar, and fear the power she may hold.Luckily for Cassandra, it was the High Lord of Spring who discovered her presence, and offered her refuge and safety from the rest of Prythian's fae—as well as a chance to learn about this mysterious heritage of hers, and the power that comes with it.





	The Sweetest Sounds

In all her years in the human lands of Prythian, Cassandra had never seen so much green.

Even with her extended stay in the Spring Court, she still just could not seem to wrap her mind around the perpetual spring that surrounded her every day.  Beneath the Wall, in her small home by the sea, everything smelled of the salty tang of the ocean, with hints of the sharp stench of freshly caught fish.  It was such a stark contrast to the fresh, flowery aroma drifting on the gentle breeze of the Spring Court.  The human lands were bound by the laws of nature, with harsh winters and storms that would cause the seas to rage and the tide to swell until the waves were lapping at her front door.

But not here, not in the land of everlasting spring.  The days were sunny and mild at best and gray and rainy at worst.  Even on those days when the sun could hardly manage to peek through a cluster of storm clouds, the air remained comfortable, if not brisk.  Cassandra never required more than the silken, deep blue cloak the High Lord had gifted her on a particularly chilly day.

Sitting on the bank of a gently flowing stream on the outskirts of the High Lord’s manor, Cassandra gently fingered the cloth of that blue cloak, the material softer than anything she had possessed back home.  It reminded her of the smooth, cool hide of a dolphin she had managed to call to the shoreline many years ago, the animal oddly compliant as she spoke softly to it, her speech turning to song, softly singing a lullaby she recalled from her childhood.

She never really understood why her father had snatched her out of the waves, scolding her harshly for singing so openly and shamelessly.

“ _You must never sing beyond the walls of our home_ ,” he had warned.  “ _It’s not…proper for a lady to freely offer herself to the world like that._ ”

She had been so embarrassed, so ashamed that she had angered her father that she did not once even hum a simple tune for many months afterwards, even in the comfort of her own home.  It wasn’t until many years later—until just recently, in fact—that she understood the fear and panic that had been in her father’s eyes, why he trembled so violently as he pulled her from the water, dragging her inside their home as his gaze nervously scanned their surroundings before shutting their front door.

And it was for that very same reason that she had been welcome in the Spring Court when she had stumbled through a hole in the Wall her dear friend had found for them, earning her not only a new home, but a place to begin seeking any information she could on a mother she never knew, or at least the people her mother possibly hailed from.

“You should at least bring a sentry or two if you’re going to wander so far from the manor.”

Cassandra turned to see the High Lord himself strolling lazily toward her, the sun glinting off of his fine, golden hair and the polished steel of the daggers sheathed in the bandolier strapped across his chest.  It might have been the distance between them, but she could have sworn that was an amused, if slightly restrained, smile upon his lips.

She merely shrugged.  “Sorry, Tamlin.  I needed the water.  The bathtub just… doesn’t do it for me.  It’s fine for bathing and such, but…” She trailed off, turning back to face the stream once more, focusing on the cool water flowing over her feet as they lay submerged in the shallows.  She didn’t  _need_  the water by any means, but the feeling of flowing,  _living_  water coursing over her flesh was a strange comfort she could never really explain.

Tamlin came up behind her, his steps nearly silent on the dew laden grass, sounding oddly remorseful as he spoke.  “I’m sorry my home isn’t closer to the sea.  I promise once our relations with Autumn settle down, we’ll take you and that friend of yours to the shore.”

“Things still not going well with them?” Cassandra asked, lifting her foot out of the water slowly before submerging it again.  “You High Lords get into a pissing contest over every little thing, don’t you?”

A soft huff of a laugh escaped Tamlin as he came to kneel beside her in the grass.  “Unfortunately, this is no little thing,  _halfling_.”  The smile in his voice caused her own to widen.  “At first, they thought I was merely harboring a pair of humans in my home.  Certainly frowned upon amongst us, but nothing to pitch a fit about.”  He reached out to fix her cloak, pulling it away from the water’s edge as he arranged it neatly behind her, the material resembling that of a whirlpool in the open ocean.  “But imagine Beron’s shock when rumors reached him that it was not a pair of humans, but a human and a long forgotten  _siren_ residing in my lands.”

“ _Half_  siren, Tamlin,” she said, turning to fix the High Lord with a pointed glare.  “Or so you all tell me.”

“That sentry of mine would have killed you for crossing into my lands,” Tamlin said.  Cassandra merely rolled her eyes as he chuckled.  “Or he at the very least would have dragged you back to whatever hole you two crawled out of and pushed you back through it, but instead he brought you to me on your request.”

She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest as she turned her gaze back to the gently flowing stream, her toes idly poking at the rocks beneath the surface.  It was a truth that Cassandra had yet to fully come to terms with, but it made everything in her life finally click into place.  Music had been all but banned in her house, save for a few special occasions and exemptions.  Demands were forbidden, her father only allowing her to politely ask for whatever she wished.  They lived on the shore, far from town with the nearest neighbor a whole five miles away.  Her father refused to leave their small home, insisting that if he left, he’d have lost her mother forever.

As that last thought rose to the forefront of her mind, a sharp pang of sorrow caused her chest to ache.  Her father had died in that house, only leaving when absolutely necessary out of some irrational fear that the memory of her mother would slip from his mind forever if he were away from the sea for too long.  Or at least that was how he made it sound.  Now she couldn’t help but wonder if he had just been hoping to see her once more, sunbathing in the shallows as he had written in that long forgotten journal under the floorboards of his bed.

Tamlin shifted, drawing her back to the present.  “Still,” she said, her voice thick with a sadness she thought had been left beyond the Wall.  “I’m only half siren, how much of a threat could I possibly be?  I’m not here to lure Fae males to my bed and slit their throats in their sleep.  I just…” She huffed out a frustrated sigh, Tamlin kneeling patiently beside her, waiting for her to continue.  “I don’t even know how to be a siren, I don’t know what they do, or how they do it.  I didn’t even know they existed until I came here.”

“Many of us have not seen a siren in centuries,” he began, his voice sounding far away.  “Some of the younger ones have never seen one at all, but even they have heard the stories, the power they hold, the danger they are to humans and fae alike upon the open ocean.  You, dear halfling, are not bound to the waves or the tides.  You are free to walk amongst us and into our homes, charming us into giving away our lands, families, or even our lives.”  

A wolfish grin spread across his face as his fingers came up under her chin, turning her gaze to him.  Cassandra couldn’t help the shiver that slithered up her spine as he continued,  “You wield a power that could fell the entirety of Prythian with little more than a song or carefully worded command.  That is why Beron sits on his throne trembling like the dying leaves he presides over, why our relations with Autumn are more strained than usual.”

It wasn’t the intensity of his gaze, or even the gentle hold on her chin that left Cassandra breathless, but the absolute sincerity in Tamlin’s voice.  The High Lord of Spring believed she was every bit the force of nature the High Lord of Autumn suspected her to be, that, should she wish it, she could take this court for herself and leave them all as her thralls.

All of this, and none of them had even seen if she was truly capable of this power they feared.  She could very well sing one of the few songs her father had allowed her to learn right now, snatching an entire court out from under the High Lord himself with a simple tune.  And yet Tamlin still trusted her within his home, amongst his friends and people.

It was with this realization that Cassandra blurted, “I have not sung in years.”

Tamlin blinked, silent for a beat, before a chuckle rumbled deep in his chest.  “What?  You told me how much you love music.”  He released her chin, his eyes dancing with amusement.

“And I do!” she insisted, uncrossing her arms to run a hand through her hair, a vain attempt to distract him from the heat rushing to her cheeks.  “It just… wasn’t allowed in my house.  I realize now that my father was well aware of what I was, of what I could probably do.”

She glimpsed the silken, ocean blue material of her cloak pooling behind her, her mind drifting back to that dolphin she had lured to her side.

“Do you want to hear some?” he asked

She looked back up at him, surprised to see the corners of his lips turned downward in a slight frown.  “What?”

“Do you want to hear some music?” he asked again, his brow lifting slightly as he watched her.  “It probably wouldn’t be anything you know, but I would be willing to teach you some of our songs.”

Cassandra quirked an eyebrow, a lopsided, half smile gracing her features.  “ _You_  would teach me?”

Another throaty chuckle as Tamlin sat up straighter, his long hair flowing down his back and over his shoulders like a golden waterfall.  “But of course.  Surely Lucien has told you that I am an accomplished fiddler by now.”

That half smile morphed into a devilish grin as she brought her hand up to rest on her chest in mock surprise.  “Oh,  _that’s_  what he was referring to.  And here I thought he was talking about something else entirely.”

It took the High Lord a moment, but once her words registered, a rather un-High Lord-like snort erupted from him as he choked back his laughter.  “And here I thought I had a lady in my midst.  Good to know you have finally grown comfortable enough here to show your true colors.”

Cassandra laughed, grinning proudly as she inclined her head.  “Sorry,  _my lord_.  It was a rare opportunity I just couldn’t pass up.”

“Truly, you and Lucien have been spending far too much time together,” he shot back, his voice laced with amusement as he pushed himself to his feet, dusting off the stray blades of grass that stuck to his pants.  He bent slightly at the waist, extending his hand to her.  “Come, dear halfling, all this talk of music has put me in the mood to play a bit.”  He flexed his fingers for emphasis.

Cassandra stared at his hand for a beat, her pulse pumping loudly in her ears as she considered him.  For all intents and purposes, Tamlin was royalty.  He was High Fae.  He was a different  _species_  entirely from herself.  Even when taking her supposed siren heritage into consideration, she still was not High Fae.  She was probably considered to be among the lesser fae, possibly even lower than that, as she was neither purely human nor purely siren.  She was a different thing entirely, and probably far beneath that of the High Lord before her.

And yet still he bowed and offered his hand to her, a simple act of kindness she had never received among the few friends she had over the course of her life.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Cassandra laid her hand in his, allowing him to pull her to her feet with all of the strength and grace that comes with being one of the immortal High Fae.

“You might want to hold up your dress.”  He nodded toward her feet, still submerged in the stream, the skirts of her light blue gown now pooling around her in the water.

She merely shrugged, stepping out of the water and onto the lush grass.  “It’s just water.  I doubt it will do much harm.”

A grin split Tamlin’s features as he looped her arm around his, leading her away from the bank and back toward the manor.  “Perhaps not to you, siren, but I’m sure it will heed your call should you will it.”

Cassandra scoffed.  “Are all fae this dramatic or just you High Fae?”

Tamlin shrugged.  “Theatrics tend to be a side effect of immortality.  It helps keep us entertained over the centuries.”

She merely shook her head, biting back the laugh that threatened to escape her as she allowed him to lead her through the tall, ornately carved threshold of the manor’s back entrance, the marble floor cool and slippery on her already wet feet.  

She tightened her hold on Tamlin’s arm as her foot almost slid out from under her, choking back the shrill shriek that nearly erupted from her lips.  “I probably should’ve dried my feet before I came in here, huh?”

“I told you to hold up your dress,” he said, his gaze still straight ahead.  “I thought you said water wouldn’t do much harm?”

Cassandra grunted as she grasped a fistful of her skirts and held them up, the very bottom of the material dripping thick droplets of water on the floor.  She hated that he was right.  “Well, I thought you said it wouldn’t hurt me?  You agreed with me.”

“It’s not the water’s fault that you decided to go traipsing through a marble floored home soaking wet,” he said, the mirth in his voice evident.  

Cassandra merely stuck her tongue out at him, earning her a laugh from the High Lord.

They passed through the doorway to Tamlin’s study, the beige curtains hung over the windows translucent and light, allowing even the slightest breeze to make them to billow and sway.  It was simple, at least compared to the other study he used for more public, court related matters.  There was a simple, wooden desk, the chair facing the windows as opposed to the doorway and anyone who may enter through it.  It was honestly the most plain thing she had seen in the manor so far.

There were numerous bookshelves lining the walls, filled to the brim with books with well worn spines, indicating they had been read many, many times.  Cassandra quirked an eyebrow, quickly browsing the titles.  They were nothing she knew, of course, but she began to wonder if Tamlin had anything about sirens stashed away somewhere in the manor.  She opened her mouth to ask as much when her eyes fell upon the case tucked away in the corner of the room, leaning against the side of the bookshelf nearest his desk.  She had seen enough street performers in town when shopping with Elizabeth or her father to recognize the shape.  It was a string instrument of some sort—probably a violin, if Tamlin was to be believed.

The grin that formed on her lips was bright and genuine, her gaze immediately darting to his face.  

Tamlin merely smirked, his green eyes sparkling with pure delight.  “I told you I was an accomplished musician.  Did you not believe me?”

Cassandra’s grin remained firmly in place.  “No, you said you were an accomplished  _fiddler_.  I still wasn’t sure we were on the same page back there.”

He rolled his eyes, dropping his hold on her arm as he nodded toward his lone desk chair, making his way toward the violin case.  “Have you no shame at all, halfling?  I’ve half a mind to suspect you’ve been wondering what it would be like to lure me to your bed with talk like that.”

A nervous, somewhat forced laugh slipped past her lips as she pulled out the chair, angling it so it faced him before she sat down.  “Sounds like a bit of wishful thinking, High Lord.”

He removed the instrument from its case, turning to face her once more with the violin in hand and that same wicked smirk painted upon his lips.  “That blush says otherwise.”

A scowl twisted the girl’s features as she let out a soft huff of air, her arms crossed over her chest indignantly.  Maybe if she pretended to be put out by his comments, she could even convince herself he was wrong.

Well, at least she hoped so, because it didn’t seem to do much in convincing Tamlin.  “Pouting will get you nowhere, and it certainly won’t slow that erratic heartbeat of yours.”

Fuck.  Her face only grew hotter and her pulse more rapid under his scrutiny.  She had honestly forgotten about the fae’s heightened senses, a small part of her falling into a panic at what other little things he might have heard her say or do.

_Damned fae bastards._

Pushing away the intrusive thoughts, she forced an irritated sigh.  “You fae and your egos.  I’m just excited to hear music for the first time in awhile.”

Tamlin laughed, his voice placating.  “Sure.  Of course.”

She narrowed her eyes.  “I’m serious.”

“Yes, of course you are.  A very serious halfling.”  He took up the violin bow and rested the violin itself in the crook between his shoulder and neck, his chin gently resting on the corner of it’s smooth, wooden surface.

Despite herself, Cassandra found her heart skipping a beat, her muscles tensing in an anticipation she had never felt before.  Music.  At long last.  Music she could openly and shamelessly listen to.  Music she could maybe learn, maybe even  _sing._

As if sensing the sudden change in her mood—knowing the fae, he probably did—Tamlin’s eyes fluttered closed and he wordlessly began to play.

It was a simple, cheerful, energetic song.  Probably one he had heard, or perhaps even played, countless times at festivals and other court gatherings.  His fingers danced effortless across the strings, his head jerking slightly with every movement of the bow, causing strands of his golden hair to fall forward, framing his handsome face perfectly.

He truly was beautiful, a fact that Cassandra had been able to ignore over the course of her stay in the Spring Court.  She had been fearful, at first, of all of them.  She knew the stories of the fearsome fae, of the horrors they had inflicted upon humanity.  It made it easy to ignore their preternatural beauty when there was the possibility of a monster lying beneath the surface.

But now, sitting before him in his bright and airy study, the vibrant notes drifting effortlessly from his nimble fingertips as he lost himself in the music, Cassandra realized with vivid clarity that Tamlin was truly the most beautiful man— _Fae_ , she reminded herself—that she had ever seen.

The street performers back in that small human town could not even begin to compare with the music that filled the room.  They merely played for coin, played popular drinking songs and nursery rhymes to draw a crowd.  There was no feeling behind the notes, no emotion in whatever lyrics they sang.  They felt nothing as they played, with one eye on the crowd, and the other on the tin set before them to collect the spare change of those who passed by.  But _this_ … this was completely different.  She had no doubt that such a song was played before crowds, perhaps even before groups of dancers as they scrambled to find a partner, used to boost the revelry at whatever festival was taking place.  But watching Tamlin play, seeing the way his brow furrowed at certain notes, how his mouth would occasionally form a snarl as he came upon particularly aggressive melody, his eyes moving rapidly even beneath shuttered eyelids, as if the story the song told played out in his mind as his fingers produced note after note…

It was easily the most breathtaking sight Cassandra had ever had the privilege to witness.

The song ended with a series of long, strangely sad and somber notes, a startling contrast with the lively beat that had persevered throughout.  The somewhat abrupt change in the tone of the song caused Cassandra to make a mental note to ask about its origins at some point, feeling as if she were missing a key component of its existence in her ignorance.  Only once the final note had faded into the crisp spring air did Tamlin open those brilliant green eyes once more, their surface slightly glazed with what she could only assume was unbridled satisfaction.  When was the last time he had been able to play?

It took a moment for Cassandra to realize she had stopped breathing, her eyes fluttering slightly as she forced air back into her lungs.  If she didn’t know any better, she would have sworn Tamlin’s breathing was ever so slightly labored as he gently set his violin on that simple, wooden desk, his fingers lingering on the strings.

A playful, impish grin played on his lips as he stood over her, his hair spilling over his shoulders in gentle waves.  “Was it as mesmerizing as those human tales built it up to be?”

For a moment, Cassandra couldn’t speak.  There was small kernel of fear in the pit of her stomach that he had used some sort of faerie magic to steal her voice from her, to render her helpless in a land full of monsters, but as the music drifted throughout the recesses of her mind, she realized it was no magic that had stolen her voice, but pure awe.

She smiled, little more than a slight upturn at the corners of her lips, her voice finally returning to her as her own bright green eyes met his enrapturing emerald gaze, uttering two simple words, “Teach me.”


End file.
